


misguided methods of atonement

by Ruto



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:28:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9397613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruto/pseuds/Ruto
Summary: Nanako is dead, Teddie is gone, Yu has blood on his hands, and the worst part is that he thinks it could have all been avoided.[ HIATUS ]





	1. message

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I'm calling him Yu now. He'll still be Souji in the other fic series, because that's not confusing at all.

It’s four in the morning. Rain patters hard against the roof and windows. Yosuke is -- or was -- asleep, if barely. The sound of his phone alerting him to a new message is enough to rouse him, and groggily he reaches to see who the hell needs him at such an obscene hour.

It’s Yu.

Any irritation that was building inside him evaporates. After everything that’s happened, he’s willing to talk to Yu at any hour of the day for as long as he wants.

The message Yu leaves reads as follows:

> we’re missing something

Yosuke rereads the three words once or twice like they’ll be any less vague if he stares at them hard enough.

>> wat??

He types the message in a flash and hits send. The responses come in a pair, almost immediate.

> we missed something  
> something’s wrong

Yosuke frowns. Something _is_ evidently wrong, yes. With _Yu._

>> i dont understand wat ur talkin abt dude

Click. Send.

He thinks he maybe shouldn’t be surprised to be receiving cryptic messages from Yu at four in the morning. It's Yu, after all. Doing odd things like this is part of his nature. That's all.

Yosuke receives a reply.

> it’s all i can think about  
> we did something wrong  
> she wouldn’t have died otherwise

Yosuke takes a slow, deep breath through his nose and exhales just as slowly. Yu doesn’t bring up Nanako much anymore. Not because he’s forgotten her, but because he can’t possibly forget. The last time someone had mentioned her around Yu, he’d excused himself from the Junes food court and a concerned Yosuke had found him muffling sobs in a restroom stall, one hand clamped over his eyes, the other over his mouth.

He’s going to have to tackle this subject as gently as he can.

>> we did the only thing we could 4 her

Send.

Fifteen minutes pass. No reply. Yosuke taps his foot anxiously and shoots off another message.

>> u wanna talk 2morrow? i can come ovr

> not tomorrow

>> ok then i guess we can keep txting?

> i’ve done everything wrong

Yosuke grimaces.

>> no  
>> yu  
>> u did wat u had 2 do

Five minutes pass. Ten minutes pass. Again, fifteen minutes pass. Yosuke stares into the glow of the screen.

Ding.

> i killed someone  
> and i think i made a mistake

>> dude. no. u did the right thing. WE did the rite thing  
>> it wasnt just u we all did it  
>> its our burden 2 bear  
>> 2gether

There is no delay, but a flurry of responses that ensue.

> you're wrong  
> i did it  
> i pushed him in  
> i grabbed him  
> i dragged him  
> he struggled  
> he was scared  
> and i pushed him in

Yosuke runs a hand through his sweaty bangs. This is getting into dangerous territory.

>> dude i RLY think we need to talk irl  
>> like rn actually  
>> ur home rite

Another delay follows, and Yosuke’s nervous impatience gets the better of him.

>> yu  
>> r u home or not

> i’m mulling some things over

>> not answerin my question

> i don’t know if you should come over here  
> it might be best if you don’t actually  
> now or tomorrow or for a while

>> in othr words ur home  
>> dude idk y your being so vague but gimme 1 good reason y i shouldnt  
>> ur not ok rn n i want 2 help

> no, i’m really not okay  
> teddie is gone and that's my fault  
> namatame is dead and that's my fault  
> nanako is dead and that's my fault  
> i’m the leader and i failed everyone  
> we never found the truth

For a moment, Yosuke contemplates calling his number so he can shout directly into his ears.

>> where th HELL r u getting this from?!

> it’s a feeling  
> i can’t explain it  
> but i know it’s the only truth i have anymore

Yosuke lets out a frustrated huff and all but stabs his phone with his thumb as he quickly composes his reply.

>> look im gonna go see u, knock sum sense into ur frickin head

Before he can finish, he receives more messages from Yu.

> i’m thinking about doing something stupid, yosuke  
> that’s why i don’t want you to come  
> i don’t know if i want you to stop me

Yosuke erases his original message.

>> wait for me, partner  
>> stay rite wher u are

He shoves his phone into his pocket.

He thinks he's afraid to read whatever reply that might come.

For better or worse, none does.

\---

After slapping on some mismatched clothes, Yosuke prays he won’t wake up his parents as he sneaks out of the house.

He wishes he still had to worry about waking up Teddie.

\---

It’s a safety hazard to be riding his scooter in the rain in the middle of the night, but this is a potential emergency. Scratch that, it’s almost definitely an emergency. Never once has Yosuke heard Yu sound like this, talk like this. The implications of his words are enough to send a wash of dread over him that clings to his skin and buries deep into his flesh.

‘Something stupid.’

That phrase could encompass a great many things, but he knows there’s only one thing it could mean. Still, though... Would Yu really...?

It’s Yu, after all. Level-headed, reasonable Yu.

Then again, nobody ever thought Yu was capable of sentencing a man to his death, either. That night, Yosuke half suspected Yu to tell everyone to simply calm down and really think through what they contemplating. That’s how Yu is. Kind. Merciful. Gentle. He’s not like Namatame. He doesn’t have the heart of a murderer, even if their hands should be stained in the same way.

In retrospect, it was only a matter of time before the guilt of his actions in the heat of that moment started to get to him.

Yosuke tears through the soggy, darkened streets of Inaba and hopes he can reach Yu in time. It’s their sin to bear together, _alive_ , if it is a sin at all.

But Yu’s statement, “we never found the truth”, itches at Yosuke. He wishes he had some music on, headphones pressed against his ears to drown out the nagging repetition of those words in his head. He’s not sure why it troubles him. Personally, he’s never doubted that Namatame was the killer. How could he possibly? Sure, the guy had an alibi or something at one point, but those can be fudged and there’s no question he kidnapped Nanako and that kidnapping lead to her _death._

Grief’s making Yu crazy. That’s the only explanation for any of this. Yosuke knows that when people die, their loved ones obsess over all the things they could have done differently, ways they could have prevented it from happening... That’s all this is.

How long has Yu been thinking like this? He did the wrong thing, it’s his fault she’s dead -- has he been holding onto these thoughts ever since that very day, and now the dam’s finally burst at four in the morning as he sits inside an empty house with nothing but the sound of rain for company?

Yosuke’s speeding like hell now and ignoring stop signs and traffic lights. There’s no time to waste.

\---

When he arrives at the Dojima residence, Yu is sitting on the highest rooftop, apparently unconcerned by the rain soaking him to the bone. An object glints in his hand.

 _Everything_ about this concerns Yosuke.

“What the hell, partner?!” he calls, voice strained. If he wakes up the neighbors, he doesn’t give a damn. “Go back inside! A-and put that down!”

He doesn’t know for sure what it is that Yu’s holding. He has an idea, and it’s enough to send a shockwave of panic throughout his body.

All Yu does is bow his head and run one hand through his hair, resting his forehead against his palm. His other hand grasps the suspicious object loosely, his arm limp and lying against the rooftop like a ragdoll.

“I’m coming up, okay?! Just -- wait!”

Yosuke darts to the entrance, and he can’t tell for the life of him if it’s intentional or a coincidence that the front door is unlocked. He was preparing himself to break the damn thing down if need be.

Yosuke heads for Yu’s room; the windows, naturally, lead to the first storey rooftop, and he can climb to the second storey from there. Yu’s room is in abject disarray, but there’s no time to dwell on it. One of the windows is already open, a cold breeze freezing the room. Yosuke climbs through it and is careful not the slip on the wet tiles. Walking cautiously, he grabs the upper rooftop and tries to haul himself up; it’s no easy feat when it’s is slick with rain.

Through the rain, Yosuke hears Yu murmur his name. The next thing he knows, Yu is setting aside the glinting object that is -- oh god, it really _is_ a knife -- and is grabbing him by the wrists to help pull him up.

“What -- the hell?” Yosuke asks on hands and knees.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Yu asks.

“Are you?!” Yosuke exclaims, pointing accusingly at the knife. “What the fuck?!”

“It’s no big deal,” says Yu.

“So you _are_ hurt,” Yosuke says, sitting on his knees. “Where?”

Less a question, more a demand. Yu appears to contemplate whether or not he should answer before giving in.

“Forearm and thigh,” says Yu, in a tone too subdued even for him.

Despite the darkness, Yosuke can see a splotch on Yu’s pajama pant leg that the rain cannot claim responsibility for. And if he looks carefully, he can see scratch marks on Yu’s forearm, all in a neat, near-perfect row; impossible to claim as the result of an accident. They’re not so deep as to bleed much (unless the rain has washed away the blood and disguised the depth of the wounds) but they’re proof nonetheless that he had...

That Yu harmed himself.

_Yu._

Yosuke’s can’t decide if he wants to rage or cry, emotions swirling in his chest like a painful vortex.

“Is this the stupid thing you were thinking about doing?”

Was Yosuke too late? Too late to stop him?

“No. I did this before I messaged you. The stupid thing was something else,” says Yu, eerily monotone. Like a robot.

And there’s only one reason Yosuke can imagine right now for Yu to be sitting on the roof in the middle of the night, in the middle of the rain.

“Let’s go inside,” Yosuke says slowly, forcing himself to appear calm. “First we patch you up, and then we talk about this. Okay?”

Yu stares down at the rain-slick street below in a way that Yosuke would describe as longingly. It could so easily be blood and not water making puddles down there. Yosuke, white-knuckled, grabs Yu by the hand.

“Please,” Yosuke says.

Yu tears his gaze away from the two-storey drop and nods at Yosuke mutely. His deep-set exhaustion is plain as day, from the bags under his glassy eyes to the slump in his shoulders. He’s been visibly tired ever since what happened in the hospital, despite the hollow smiles he’s plastered on time and time again for everyone else’s peace of mind. Now, it’s like he’s given up entirely on hiding that tiredness; as if no longer possesses the strength to pretend he is not at his wit’s end.

Yosuke makes his way down to the first-floor rooftop and then helps Yu descend, taking care that he makes it down safely and doesn’t get hurt worse. They crawl back in through the window -- Yosuke helps him with that too. The knife is left outside.

The first thing Yosuke does is take Yu by the shoulders and sit him down on the couch. They’re both sopping wet, but Yu’s the only one shivering.

“How long were you out there?” Yosuke asks, and he wonders if this is how Dojima feels when he starts off an interrogation down at the station.

“I don’t know,” says Yu, and Yosuke believes him. However, that’s the least helpful answer he could have given.

“Okay. Look, you -- you’re all wet, and you’re gonna get sick, and for all I know that -- that wound on your thigh might be infected. So first let’s... I guess we need to check on the injury.”

He’s not a doctor of any stripe, he’s not qualified to be handling this situation. God damn it.

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter,” says Yu, head tilted upward at the dull ceiling, sounding for all the world like he’s on another plane of existence.

“Don’t say that,” Yosuke snarls. Not loudly. His words are tinged with simmering anguish. “Don’t you _ever_ say that again. You’re hurting yourself and you’re acting like you wanna _die_. Don’t tell me it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“It's only right that I die," says Yu in a muted voice, dropping his head to focus on the marks on his arm. “Or be hurt, at least. The police can’t punish me, and I have no other ways of making things right.”

“Shut up," says Yosuke, angry tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He tries and fails to blink them away. “I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that!"

How could this possibly make things right?

Yu raises his head.

“If it will make you feel better, I'll go along with you trying to help me," Yu says, so placidly it hurts.

“It's not about making _me_ feel better, damn it," Yosuke says through gritted teeth, his vision going wet and blurry. He shakes his head and tries to force himself calm. “Look, t-take off your pants, I need to see how bad you're hurt. And I need to know where the first aid kits are.”

“Downstairs, third cabinet from the right," says Yu.

“And -- towels too.”

“Upstairs bathroom. Cabinet above the sink.”

“You'd better be on this couch when I come back," Yosuke says. “You hear me?"

“I won't move," says Yu, running his thumb over the marks on his forearm; the evidence of his desperation. “I promise."

Mostly satisfied with that -- Yu is not one to break a promise, presumably even under circumstances such as these -- Yosuke retrieves the first aid kit and a towel and darts back to Yu's room.

Yu is hunched in on himself, clinging to his elbows. His soppy hair is right in his eyes. He jiggles one leg out of anxiety or agitation.

“I’m sorry to trouble you, Yosuke,” Yu says. “I shouldn’t have messaged you.”

Yosuke’s anger wavers.

“No, I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t have known you needed help otherwise,” he says. At least, not until it was too late, his brain supplies.

Yu splattered on the ground in front of the house he made a home. Yu crumpled in a heap on the floor of the kitchen where he always cooked lunch for his friends, a knife buried in his chest. These thoughts come unbidden and Yosuke kind of wants to cry again, sink to his knees and bawl at the horror of this situation.

And he’s not even the one who wants to die.

“Alright, take everything off. Start drying off and I’ll take a look at what you did.”

He’s an expert in putting his foot in his mouth; he hopes that doesn’t come across as accusatory. If it does, Yu does not remark on it. He accepts the towel that Yosuke hands to him and begins mussing his hair with it.

With the first-aid kit beside him, Yosuke assesses the extent of the damage on Yu's thigh. There’s blood crusted over an inch-long incision that's an irritated shade of red. The skin surrounding it is yellowing. Bruising, Yosuke guesses. He can’t tell how deep it is. Judging by the stain on Yu’s pants it bled a decent amount, although Yosuke’s heard the phrase “not as bad as it looks” before.

“Looks like you’re not bleeding anymore. How... how long ago did you...?”

“Hard to remember,” Yu admits. “Some time yesterday.”

“Okay. I’m. Gonna disinfect it now. It might sting.”

 _Not that you probably care,_ thinks Yosuke dourly.

Yu nods.

Yosuke doesn’t know if he’s doing any of this right. The way he’s talking to Yu, the way he’s dealing with the injury. Should he have grabbed a washcloth and wiped up the blood first? What if that aggravated the wound? Only if he scrubbed too hard, maybe? Fuck, he doesn’t know. Why can’t he summon Susano-O in this world? Diarama would solve this problem entirely!

He grits his teeth in frustration at his own ineptitude as he applies the disinfectant provided by the first-aid kit. Yu’s leg jerks a little in response to the sting, but Yu voices no complaint. As Yosuke wraps the provided bandages around the site of the injury, he asks,

“Does anyone else know you’re feeling like this?”

“Suicidal?” Yu asks, and Yosuke flinches at the word and the bluntness of its delivery.

“Y-yeah.”

“Naoto might,” Yu says, towel currently wrapped around his shoulders like a shock blanket. From the legs down he's still soaking wet. “She’s been asking about my well-being. If I feel guilty. If I'm eating. That kind of thing.”

Come to think about it, Naoto did voice some concerns about Yu’s state of mind to the rest of the group not that long ago. She hadn’t used the word “suicidal”, but she's sharp and observant, and taking into account what Yu's saying, Yosuke’s sure she must have entertained the possibility of Yu wanting to kill himself. A good detective considers every angle, right?

In which case Yosuke would have to ask why she didn't bring her concerns up with the group, and then maybe he could have intervened sooner...!

He's not being fair, he realizes. He has no way of knowing what Naoto's thinking, and even if she did suspect Yu to be suicidal, everyone would either panic or go into denial if she said as much. Hell, he likes to think of himself as a level-headed, reasonable guy and he's pretty sure he wouldn't have accepted a theory like that.

“She doesn’t know about...” He gestures to the wound on Yu’s thigh and then to the marks on his forearm that Yosuke still needs to look at.

Yu shakes his head.

“I’ve been wearing long sleeves outside.”

It’s winter. No one would think twice about long sleeves in the winter. Yosuke sighs heavily and stands up.

“Lemme see your arm,” says Yosuke.

“I don’t think it needs to be treated with anything,” says Yu.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” says Yosuke. Okay, he’s not a doctor, sure, but it can’t be that hard to tell if something’s infected, right? It’d be all gross-looking, probably.

Naoto would know. Detectives must have some kind of first-aid training.

Yosuke suddenly wishes she were here right now. He can’t help Yu alone. And he doesn’t mean to knock the others, but she’s the only one calm and rational enough to be able to hear about Yu’s current state without freaking out, and even if her people skills leave some things to be desired, it can never hurt to have another friend around.

...And maybe she’ll have some input on the things Yu was saying about the “truth”.

“It looks okay,” says Yosuke. “But...”

“But?” Yu asks.

Yosuke closes his eyes.

“Do you mind if I call Naoto over?” Yosuke asks. “Because this is... kind of an emergency. I-if you want, I’ll tell her not to let the others know?”

Yu pulls the towel tighter around himself before saying, “That’s fine.”

Yosuke is both relieved and concerned at the lack of fight Yu puts up.

“I'm gonna step out," says Yosuke. “Finish drying yourself off and change."

It's an order, but not an unkind one.

Yu nods, and Yosuke exits the room, pulling his phone out of his pants. He decides to call rather than text. It'll be easier to explain the situation that way.

Naoto answers on the second ring.

“Yosuke-senpai?" she asks. She doesn't sound like someone who just dragged themselves out of bed to answer the phone at -- what time is it even -- five in the morning by now? Four thirty? He's not been keeping track. Either way, he guesses Naoto's pulling an all-nighter. “It's early. Is something the matter?"

“Yes," Yosuke says, emphatic but quiet. He doesn't want Yu to overhear, but he doesn't want to be out of earshot either. Just in case. “It's Yu."

“What's the matter?" Naoto asks. He's sure he has her undivided attention now.

“I don't wanna mince words here, so... He injured himself. On purpose. And -- I found him on the roof like he was thinking about jumping off, and he said he was, y'know, he wanted to..."

In the end, he can't even say it.

“I'll be right there," Naoto says, and he can hear the sound of her swinging a jacket over her shoulders. “Is he currently safe?"

“Yeah. He's in his room -- I'm in the hall outside. I patched him up, but I think you're gonna have to check on my handiwork."

“Understood," Naoto says. “Stay with him until I get there."

“Definitely," Yosuke says, nodding even though she can’t see it. “Oh, and I think we need to keep this between us right now."

“Agreed. There's no telling at present how the others will react," Naoto says. “I'm hanging up now."

“Alright. Thanks, Naoto. Stay safe," says Yosuke, and he flips his phone shut.

He wonders what would have taken place tonight if he hadn't woken up.

He decides he doesn't want to think about it.


	2. breaking point

There were occasions when Naoto Shirogane did not like to be correct, and this was one of them.

‘Yu Narukami is suicidal’. It wasn’t a theory she had clung to particularly tightly, but the thought nagged at her in the time following Nanako’s death and never really went away, like a dog at her heels. Depression came hand in hand with grief: couple that with the inevitable guilt of having committed a revenge killing and you had one unstable psyche on your hands.

Now, every person is different. Not everyone in Yu’s situation would experience suicidal thoughts or engage in self-harm. Naoto was aware of that. But as far as she could tell, he was exhibiting strange behavior, for all that he tried to cover it up: unusual sleep cycles, decrease in appetite, listlessness... She was neither a psychologist nor a psychiatrist, but she was aware of the typical symptoms.

‘Yu Narukami is suffering from depression’ is not an unreasonable conclusion to make in light of these facts. And ‘Yu Narukami may be suicidal’ is a thought that should only naturally branch from her original deduction. However likely or unlikely for this to be the case, it is a possibility that has haunted her. A potential scenario she must prepare herself for.

She had tried to glean some information on Yu’s mental state recently, but had come up short. No one had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary from him -- the new “ordinary” for him. The Yu that sleeps too much or not at all, who doesn’t eat or smile like he used to, for all that he tries. He does try.

The investigation is over -- or it’s supposed to be -- and he’s still trying to act as the unflappable leader, wearing a mask that no longer fits. Everyone has come to rely on him so much. He knows that. They all know that. He would never want to disappoint them.

Everyone has a breaking point.

She had never outright asked him if he harbored suicidal thoughts. She was afraid to, she realizes now. Afraid to know the answer.

If she had asked, would he have answered truthfully? If he had, could she have aided him somehow? Prevented him from hurting himself? Dissuaded him from thinking about worse?

 _Self-flagellation will not benefit Senpai in any way,_ she reminds herself as she navigates the streets of Inaba. The darkness in the sky is beginning to give way to light, the rain beginning to let up. A more romantic mind might take it as a sign.

Naoto knows it’s simply a matter of weather and the earth’s rotation.

She’s at the Dojima residence before long.

\---

The front door is ajar. Naoto sees no signs of forced entry. To the best of her knowledge, Yosuke doesn’t possess a key to the Dojima household. Would an extra have been hidden by the entrance? Or did Yu leave the door unlocked?

“I’m here,” she calls into the house, stepping inside. The lights are on. Did Yosuke turn them on when he arrived? She imagines him instead darting straight for Yu’s room to meet him at the rooftop. He knows the layout of the home. He might not need lights.

It’s comforting for Naoto to put herself in the detective mindset. It distances her from the situation to a degree. She can be of better help that way. Doctors don’t operate on their own family members, as they may be compromised by their attachment to the patients; the same principle applies to this.

“We’re up here,” Yosuke calls from upstairs.

As Naoto makes her way to the stairwell, she glimpses the sight of dirty plates stacked in the kitchen sink and trash on the floor. Not atypical things to see in the home of a depressed individual. Naoto thins her lips and climbs the stairs. She’s struck by uncertainty as she reaches the top. What if she can’t help? What if she says the wrong things?

_I have to trust myself and Yosuke-senpai._

Nodding to herself, she strides down the hall to Yu’s bedroom. The door is open, and the room is a mess. Yosuke and Yu are sitting side-by-side on the couch. Yosuke has his hand on Yu’s back. Yosuke’s clothes are wet and he looks for all the world like he dressed himself in the dark. Naoto imagines Yu sent Yosuke a message informing him of his intentions and Yosuke hurried over as fast as he could.

Meanwhile, Yu is wearing clean pajamas. There’s a towel and a pile of wet, discarded clothing on the floor. Naoto’s eyes are drawn to the bloodstain on one article of clothing.

A product of his self-injury?

Naoto tears her eyes away from the... the evidence. That’s all it is.

“Yu-senpai,” she murmurs. “How are you feeling?”

A beat or two passes before Yu, eyes downcast, says, “Conflicted.”

 _Monotone. Flat affect,_ Naoto notes.

“I imagine so,” she says.

“I don’t know what I want,” Yu says. Then he shakes his head. “No, I do know, but...”

Yosuke swallows hard as he rubs Yu’s back. Yosuke appears frayed at the edges, out of his element; he’s trying to keep himself together for Yu’s sake and not entirely succeeding.

And Yu...

Naoto stares hard at Yu. He looks... broken. She can think of no word more apt.

“Thanks for coming over so fast,” Yosuke says.

She nods.

Naoto takes a seat at the worktable (where Yu had spent many a night translating or folding paper cranes or building model robots) so she can face him directly. She remembers Yu showing her his robot collection once. She never mentioned it to him, but she’d gone out and bought a kit the very next day. In-between work and the case she’d miraculously found enough time to put it together, and it sits proudly now in her room.

She wishes now she’d told him about it. Even if it wouldn’t have changed anything.

“Yu-senpai, I'm going to ask some questions that may be difficult to answer. Is that all right?"

Yu folds his hands together in his lap.

“I've been asking myself difficult questions all this time," Yu says, closing his eyes. “Go ahead.”

Naoto and Yosuke share a concerned look before Naoto clears her throat and tries to appear professional: in control of both this situation and her emotions.

“You have been engaging in the act of self-mutilation. Is this correct?” she asks. This is nothing but one more interview. She can do this.

“Ever since that day,” Yu says. “The day Nanako died... when I murdered Namatame.”

Murder is an extremely blunt word. He doesn’t try to couch his actions in softer language. Taking responsibility for what he’s done.

What they all did. She is an accomplice to murder. Yosuke is too.

Beyond that, this confession concerns her deeply. All this time and no one discovered the “habit” he’d picked up. The seeker of truth knows how to keep a secret.

(They all do, don’t they...?)

Yu’s phrasing seems strangely off to her. It’s hard to tell from the ambiguous delivery of his words, but it almost sounds like he’s implying Namatame’s murder had something to do with Nanako’s death. It might be her imagination, but... nevertheless, she files this away to inquire about later.

Naoto knows better than to ignore anything that seems out of place.

(Which is why she’s been puzzling over the case in secret up to this very night. For all that it must be her imagination, she can’t shake this feeling that something is wrong... that they missed something despite the indisputable fact that Namatame is responsible for Nanako’s death, and that alone was grounds to push the bastard in.)

“I see," Naoto says to Yu. “Did you require medical attention at any point?"

“I researched basic first aid so I could attend to my own wounds,” Yu says. “I didn't have the courage most of the time to cut enough to make myself bleed in the first place."

“Dumbass," Yosuke interrupts. “It's not about courage!"

“Yosuke-senpai," Naoto says, firm but not harsh.

“...Sorry," says Yosuke, mouth drawn in a thin line. He doesn't stop rubbing Yu's back.

“When you say 'most of the time’: you’re implying that you did, eventually, cut deep enough to shed blood?” Naoto asks.

“My thigh," says Yu. “The other day. Yosuke took care of it for me earlier."

Naoto senses that this is a bit odd.

“Yu-senpai. If you are capable of mending your own injuries, why did you require Yosuke-senpai's aid?"

Yu casts a glance at his thigh when he says, “I didn't care if it bled."

“Hence the bloodstains on your pajama pants,” Naoto says.

“You noticed,” Yu says quietly. Ashamedly, even.

“As a detective, it is my job to notice,” Naoto says neutrally.

“...Is there anything else you’ve noticed?” Yu asks. “About the case?”

It’s not just Yu who looks at her when this is said: Yosuke does too.

“I... believe it would be best if we addressed that later,” Naoto says.

“You’re the number one priority here,” Yosuke says.

“I’m a killer,” says Yu. “I abandoned the truth and let Nanako die.”

“Nanako-chan’s death had nothing to do with you, Senpai,” Naoto says slowly.

_Irrational self-blame._

“It had everything to do with me,” says Yu, both quiet and intense.

“As I said before, Senpai, we should address this later. I still have questions for you.”

Yu hangs his head. Naoto can hear Yosuke murmuring to Yu, barely audible: “It’s okay, buddy, hang in there.”

“It isn’t okay,” Yu croaks out.

“Yu-senpai,” Naoto says to get his attention. “I must ask at what point your suicidal ideation began.”

“Right after Nanako died,” says Yu. “And those thoughts intensified the more I considered what I’d done to Namatame.”

“Because you think those two things are connected,” says Yosuke.

So much for ‘later’.

“I'm afraid I don't follow this line of logic, Senpai," Naoto says carefully.

“It’s hard to explain, but I know it’s true,” Yu says. “I keep hearing a voice in my dreams talking about fog and lies... how we can never see the truth for ourselves, and it would be better if I stopped thinking about all this. But that can only mean that... there truth’s still hidden in fog. Truth I failed to grasp because I needed Namatame to pay. And I know you think I sound crazy... But I have no doubt that if I’d found the truth, Nanako... she’d still be alive. I can _feel_ it like I can feel the Personas swimming in my soul.”

He places an unsteady hand over his heart.

He takes a shuddering breath, and when he speaks again, his voice cracks, and he digs his nails into his chest. “She’s--she’s Justice, and I defied everything that stands for. I want to make it right.”

"Justice". It takes her a moment before it clicks. He means the arcana. Every Persona corresponds to one of the arcana: for Yu, it appears the same is true of people.

Yosuke grips Yu by the shoulder. “Listen. Put all that other stuff aside for a second: would Nanako-chan want you to _kill yourself?_ What about Dojima-san? Is that what he’d want? What’s he gonna do if he loses you too?”

“I must agree with Yosuke-senpai,” Naoto says, though the startled, guilt-stricken expression Yu adopts makes her heart twist. “I understand that you’re experiencing what must be immense pain, and that you want to make things right, but please, be reasonable, Yu-senpai. If we have indeed strayed from the truth as you believe, we cannot find our way back to the right path without you. And I... I don’t _want_ you to die.”

“Me neither,” says Yosuke, nodding firmly. “Dude, I don’t know what I’d do if you died. I’d be a mess. We all would be.”

“Truly, Senpai, we value you more than you could ever know,” Naoto admits. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Yu’s whole body shudders and he clamps one hand over his mouth as if to stifle a cry -- the other, the one over his heart, stay right where it is, digging in yet deeper, and it’s a fortunate thing he’s got a shirt to protect him, because Naoto fears he’d draw blood otherwise. His face crumples, eyes scrunching up like tears are only moments away from spilling in excess. He blinks rapidly.

“It’s... all right to cry, Senpai,” Naoto says. “You may feel better if you do. There’s a scientific basis for that."

Yosuke’s arm is around Yu’s shoulders now, rocking him back and forth gently.

“Can’t argue with logic,” Yosuke says. “It’s okay. I mean, you were there for me when I turned on the waterworks. Let us be here for you.”

This is the first Naoto’s heard of that incident, and she’s surprised that he would admit to having cried while she’s right there. Her surprise does not last. Yosuke must know that the point he’s trying to make matters more than his sense of “manly” pride.

“I don’t -- I don’t deserve...” Yu makes a strangled sound.

“Yes you do,” Yosuke says. “Whatever you were gonna say -- kindness, mercy, comfort -- you deserve it.”

Yu shakes his head. “It’s my fault she’s _dead._ ”

“Presuming that to be true would not change my feelings in the slightest,” Naoto says. “If it is your fault, a claim that is in question to begin with, then firstly, the guilt is shared amongst us as accomplices to Namatame’s death. Secondly... we love you, Senpai. Unconditionally. So please. Allow us to comfort you.”

Yu gives a shuddering sigh. “Do... what you want.”

Naoto stands up and finally takes a seat on the couch next to Yu. She places her hand on his back the way Yosuke did, but more uncertainly. Awkwardly. She’s never been a “huggy” kind of person. No one has ever turned to her for comfort.

But this action is what breaks the dam at last, and tears begin to slip down Yu’s face. It starts slowly, and then it turns into a relentless stream. He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and he wracks with sobs, completely incapable of holding anything back.

“Let it all out," says Yosuke softly. “Cry as much as you need to. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Yes, Senpai,” Naoto says, and she has to admit to herself that Yu’s tears are contagious. She clears her throat and wills her voice steady before continuing. “We won’t leave you in this state.”

Every response Yu tries to form is unintelligible.

Naoto could have never anticipated seeing Yu, their once calm and seemingly flawless leader, so vulnerable. She wonders: does he cry to himself like this often? Or has his guilt and grief manifested -- at least until tonight -- solely in the form of self-harm? It seems to her that this sobbing breakdown, preceded by his very serious contemplation of suicide, are both things that have been a long time coming.

She spots a fault in her logic. She does not know for a fact that this is the first time Yu’s suicidal ideation became outright suicidal _intent._ It’s entirely possible that he has sat on the rooftop before in the darkness of night, contemplating death. And if not that, there are countless other methods of committing suicide that Naoto can think of.

She has more she needs to ask him, but not now.

It’s a long while before the sobbing stops, and they do not leave his side.


	3. first rewind

It’s over.

Nanako is dead, Teddie is gone, and Namatame will soon perish at the hands of the Shadow he will inevitably reject. They’ll find his body strung up on a telephone pole and the police will find themselves back at square one. They will search for a murderer who no longer lives up until they don’t, and the case goes cold and forgotten.

That’s how the story of the Inaba serial murders will end. It is _a_ conclusion. It is not a _satisfying_ one.

The hatred, the rage, they vanish as quickly as they came. All that’s left is a sense of all-encompassing emptiness, a hole bored in Yu’s soul that sucks away any traces of emotion. Yu trails behind the others as they head for the hospital exit. He’s barely keeping in a straight line; his eyes are unfocused.

“Yu-kun?” Yukiko asks hesitantly, pausing in the doorway. Everyone is looking at him. They all look exhausted, like they’re all cried out. “...Would you like one of us to walk you home?”

He shakes his head mutely. He stares past them, through the glass of the hospital doors. It’s snowing. How nice.

“Senpai, are you sure? It's been a really, really horrible day... but for you especially," Rise says, hands clasped together over her chest.

“I’m sure,” Yu says blandly.

“...If you need anythin' at all, we got your back," says Kanji, more somberly than is usually expected of him.

“Y-yeah!” Chie chimes in, trying to force some enthusiasm into her voice. “We’re... we’re all here for you, okay?”

 _Almost all of you,_ Yu thinks to himself. He wants to be upset that Teddie’s not here, angry that he would abandon them.

He wants a lot of things.

“Feel absolutely free to call us whenever you like," adds Naoto.

He nods.

“Are you gonna be okay, partner?"

Yosuke. His hand is on Yu’s shoulder. Not unusual for Yosuke, but his grip is usually a little firmer. He might be afraid Yu will reject the contact. Yu doesn’t.

“Yeah," Yu says.

They're all staring at him again like they don't believe him.

“...Going home," Yu says, and he walks right past his friends, Yosuke’s hand slipping right off. They don't try and stop him, but their gazes linger on his back.

He wanders around Inaba for a while. Everything's the same. The people are the same, doing the same things they do every day.

Teddie is gone and Nanako is dead and life goes on, indifferent.

And even if these people knew, they’d forget. Maybe not for a while, but they would. It’s not like anyone talks about Mayumi Yamano or Saki Konishi anymore.

He wants to grab someone off the street, shake them, and scream, _‘Don’t you understand that Nanako is dead?!’_

He didn’t think it would be like this. That finding the truth would change so little.

\---

Every single day, every single time, he expects to hear a “Welcome home, Big Bro!” when he returns to the Dojima residence. He feels like an idiot when he is greeted with silence, his only true company. At the very least, he was convinced Nanako would come home hale and hearty _eventually._ Now he knows he will never hear her voice again.

They’ll never go back to the Samegawa, he’ll never spend any more evenings helping her with her homework, the days of planting vegetables in the garden with her are gone.

These realizations rush him like a tidal wave, and they pull him under. His back thumps against the wall, his legs give out, and he slides down until he hits the floor.

She’s gone. She’s really gone, and no Recarm spell or Revival Bead can bring her back.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be the truth.

“It’s a lie,” Yu whispers, clutching his head. “It’s a lie.”

She’s fine. She’s just fine. She’s alive, and he should get up and go back to the hospital to go see her and tell her how proud of her he is, that she’s so strong he can’t even compare, and he’ll carry her on his shoulder and take her to Junes. They can get some ice cream, and they can sing her favorite song. Every day’s great--

“...at your Junes...”

He cries there on the floor until he thinks there are no tears left in him.

\---

When he finally musters the will to stand back up, his eyes are puffy and red, his nose is stuffy, and he has a splitting headache.

But above all else, he is more tired than he has ever been in his life. The exhaustion that sets in after spending an hour too long in the TV World doesn’t compare to this. He doesn’t know what time it is, nor does he care -- he wants to go to bed and sleep for a long, long time. He won’t have to think about anything if he’s essentially dead to the world.

Unless his dreams have something else in store for him. He’s going to have nightmares -- thinking about it, it seems like a certainty. Nanako is dead, after all. He pushed Namatame in, after all.

That’s right. He’s as good as killed someone. The bastard deserved it, there’s no questioning that, but... he never thought of himself as being the kind of person capable of murder. He’s mild-mannered Yu Narukami, a bright student who works multiple part-time jobs and uses his Persona for good.

Maybe -- maybe it’s not so dire as “murder”. It’s the world that _really_ kills them, isn’t it?

\-- No. No. A shiver goes down Yu’s spine. That’s making excuses. Shifting the blame. He needs to accept that in some day’s time, he’ll be a killer, no two ways about it.

But he’ll be a justified one. That is what separates him from Namatame.

This assurance in mind, he heads to bed.

\---

Someone is talking. Yu has heard their voice before, but he cannot place it.

_I must confess that I am somewhat... disappointed. I thought it would take more than that to lead you astray... However, it was only a matter of time. What humans seek, ultimately, are easy answers to difficult problems. Even you could not resist the sweet temptation of a lie that validated your beliefs and gave you a target for your righteous anger. The fog of illusion will prevail at humanity’s behest. Yes... This is what you all desire in the end, whether you acknowledge it or not._

The voice fades away. The dream changes. Nanako is speaking now.

_It hurts..._

_Big Bro? Are you there?_

_I’m scared. It really hurts..._

Yu tries to call out to her, tell her that he’s here, that it’s all right. But no sound comes out.

_Help me... Big Bro..._

_Please help me..._

_You always help me..._

Nanako is crying.

He screams for her. But no sound comes out.

He wants to reach out and comfort her. But he can’t.

_M-Mom? Are you here?_

_I don’t know what to do..._

_I want to see Mom... I want to see Dad... I want to see Big Bro again..._

_It hurts... I-I’m scared..._

_I'm scared..._

_It hurts..._

_Big Bro..._

Yu hears the voice from before again.

_She no longer resides in the realm of man. You cannot save her._

He wakes up.

\---

Yu stumbles to the bathroom and vomits into the toilet until there’s nothing but bile left in him. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Nanako’s words, her cries of pain, echo vividly in his head, as real to him as anything she’d ever said in the waking world.

He misses her. He’s so sorry he couldn’t save her. He’s so sorry that she suffered. He should have saved her faster, sooner. He doesn’t know why he’s alive and she’s not.

\-- He needs to calm down. Just... calm down. He runs a clammy hand over his face.

He staggers to his feet, flushes the toilet, and his unsteady feet take him out of the bathroom and to the stairs.

And at the top of the stairwell, a thought crosses his mind: what would it be like to fall down? His body sent tumbling, head smashing open as he hits the ground floor, blood pouring out of the resulting wound. It might not even hurt that bad if he blacked out in the process, though perhaps that is a mercy he hasn’t earned. In any case, he’d just bleed out until he died.

He wonders what it would be like if it weren’t an accident.

His mouth is dry as he descends the steps. _Don’t think like that,_ he tells himself. Thoughts like that are not to be entertained.

He heads to the kitchen sink and splashes cold water over his face, hoping to regain his senses. There was more to that dream than Nanako's cries, but the memory is just out of reach. It feels... like it was important, somehow; the way a dream about the Velvet Room is much more than the subconscious mind at work.

It’s no use. He can’t remember. He shuts off the sink and stands in the middle of the kitchen.

He’s at a loss for what to do.

He doesn’t know how to exist in a world where his innocent little cousin is dead. A world like that isn’t right. It shouldn’t be allowed.

It’s impossible that this should happen. Yet, it has. That’s reality.

That’s the truth.

He’s not really thinking when he grabs the knife from the countertop. The handle’s shape feels alien in his hands. Are they his hands? It’s like he’s disconnected from himself, his body and mind no longer in sync. The body is acting of its own volition; the mind is merely along for the ride.

He presses the serrated edge of the knife against the skin of his forearm and makes a small, tentative cut.

He shouldn’t be doing this, but he's powerless to stop himself.

He makes another cut over the same spot, and another, moving the knife back and forth in a sawing motion.

He pulls the knife away to assess the damage. There’s a red mark about a centimeter long, but no blood. Hmm. It’s harder to draw blood than he expected.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

He presses the knife back to the red mark.

He pauses.

He’s hurting himself. He’s actually hurting himself. What would his friends say? They'd be horrified; worried sick. _  
_

What would Nanako say if she saw him like this?

His hands go boneless. The knife slips from his grasp and it clatters to the floor.

His head is a mess; he’s completely out of it and he can’t think straight to save his life. He wants, suddenly and desperately, to talk to someone, but he knows he can’t. He can’t burden them with this. He’s their leader. They turn to him for guidance, not the other way around.

He picks the knife back up with hands that are now trembling, sets it in the sink, and heads back to his futon.

He doesn’t sleep. He didn’t expect to.


	4. rest

Yosuke didn’t know Yu could cry like this.

He doesn’t want to see Yu shed tears again for as long as he lives. He’ll fight the whole damn world to prevent a repeat of tonight.

Kind words and a warm embrace are not enough to fix this; they are wholly insufficient in the face of the sheer pain Yu is experiencing. Yosuke knows that, so Naoto must know that too. But that’s all they have to offer, so offer it they will.

At last, the flow of tears begin to subside. Yu takes a badly trembling hand and wipes at his face, smearing it with wetness and snot. Yosuke wants to offer to find him some tissue paper; at the same time, he can’t bring himself to leave Yu’s side for so little as an instant. What he wants to do most, though, is wrap him up in a bear hug; give him something more solid and grounding than this one-armed embrace.

He doesn’t, because he might just make things awkward. More awkward than they already are.

“I’m sorry,” Yu says in a voice choked with tears. “I’m causing you both so much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble to help a friend in need,” Yosuke says firmly.

Naoto nods. “The nature of our bond is such that we would drop everything if you needed our aid. You would do the same for us.”

“I’m not supposed to need help,” Yu says in a harsh whisper. “I’m...”

“Our leader,” Yosuke finishes grimly.

“Exactly,” Yu says.

“A leader cannot bear any burden all on their own,” says Naoto.

“Yeah! I mean, Isn’t that why we’re partners?” Yosuke asks, a little bit of hurt creeping into his voice. “So we can both support each other?”

Yu winces and Yosuke wishes he could snatch his words back, regardless of the truth in them. The last thing Yu needs right now is something else to feel guilty over. He tries again.

“Okay. Lemme start over. You count on us in the TV World, don’t you? You know our motto -- nobody goes in alone. You’ve always got us there fighting next to you. Right?”

Yu nods stiffly, and Yosuke can feel his posture go rigid. Still, Yosuke continues. He must.

“So answer this for me: why should it be any different in our world? I can heal you in battle but I can’t give you a shoulder to cry on? Come on, it doesn’t work like that.”

“It’s different,” Yu chokes out.  
  
“How?” Yosuke asks.

“It just _is,_ ” says Yu.

“I think I understand,” Naoto says slowly. “In terms of personal relationships, you’re a reserved individual. You tend to know more about others than they do about you. But in terms of battle, you’ve grown used to relying on our support. Therefore, it’s more difficult for you to bare your emotional vulnerabilities than it is for you to demonstrate what you may consider “weakness” by asking for aid in a combat situation. Is this correct, Yu-senpai?”

“...Yes,” says Yu, squeezing his interlocked hands together.

_Dead on as usual, Naoto,_ Yosuke thinks to himself appreciatively.

“You just need practice opening up to people,” Yosuke says. “Tonight was a start.”

Yu makes a vague “mm” sound.

Yosuke sighs. This subject has run its course. Yu is looking tired as hell. Naoto too, so Yosuke figures he must appear no better.

“I kinda think you should get some sleep. Bet it’ll make you feel better,” he says. “Except -- oh shit, Naoto, I forgot I wanted you to look at my, uh, first aid. If you can call it that. What do you guys think?”

“The wounds’re fine,” says Yu dully.

“...If Yu-senpai believes so, I won’t press the matter,” Naoto says, a slight frown on her features.

“Um, well, okay. Then how’s bed sound?” Yosuke asks. “I can even make your futon for you...?”

(Because it’s kind of a mess.)

He doesn’t want to boss Yu around or anything, but he does want to nudge him in the direction of making better decisions than the ones he’s been making as of late. Sleep is good. If he sleeps, he might wake up with a clearer head. Marginally less inclined towards self-destruction.

God damn, he doesn’t want to lose Yu.

The very idea overwhelms him with icy dread. He doesn’t think he could handle Yu’s death, certainly not if he died by his own hand. It would mean Yosuke had failed to help him when he needed him most; failed him as a friend. As his _partner._

They’ve been through so much together. It can’t end like this. Yosuke won’t allow it.

Yu blinks slowly, eyes half-lidded when they open, and a soft breath escapes him.

“...Alright,” he says.

Yosuke must admit to being somewhat surprised. He sort of expected Yu to decline this too.

“Oh! I mean, good!” says Yosuke. Though still loathe to leave Yu’s side, he did say he’d make his futon. He gives Yu two solid pats on the shoulder before getting up to accomplish his task. Besides, Naoto’s still there, providing her own awkward brand of comfort that Yosuke is nonetheless glad to see. She’s really trying, and that’s what counts.

It’s a challenge to step around the piles of junk that have accumulated in Yu’s room. Honestly, where did all this shit come from? This place used to be kept so clean and tidy it bordered on unnatural. Yosuke remembers being a little jealous of Yu’s stark neatness.

Yu’s fallen apart in every way conceivable.

Yosuke wants to say something light to lift the mood. Maybe something along the lines of, ‘Just you watch, I can make a futon like nobody’s business!’. And then he’d smile and give Yu a cheesy thumbs up.

He doesn’t. It would fall flat, he knows. Yosuke Hanamura, shoving his foot down his throat for the nth time.

He makes the futon in silence and tosses some garbage into the bin by the desk while he's at it. Only a little -- the bin is small and close to full. Yu probably hasn’t cared enough to dump out the garbage in a while. Yosuke can’t imagine it’d be high on his own list of priorities if he felt like Yu.

“All done," Yosuke says, wiping his palms together.

Yu nods, belatedly adding, “Thanks."

He pulls himself to his feet with difficulty, as if his own bones are struggling to support him. It makes sense. He’s drained, definitely.

The question is... now what? Yu goes to sleep and they just leave? Is it really safe to leave him alone? He looks over at Naoto and sees the troubled expression she's wearing, no doubt thinking the same.

“Senpai," Naoto starts, standing up. “I will be frank. I have some concerns over leaving you as you are."

“I thought so," says Yu. “Yosuke does too. Right?"

Yu spares him a glance.

“Well... yeah," Yosuke admits.

“You know us well,” Naoto says. “I should have expected you to anticipate our thought processes.”

“Staying here just for me would be a huge imposition on you," says Yu.

“Considering what's at stake? It's seriously not,” says Yosuke.

“Your parents," says Yu.

“It's not like this is the first time I've ever left the house before they woke up," says Yosuke.

“And if necessary, I can provide Yosuke’s parents with an excuse for his absence that does not disclose the nature of your circumstances, Yu-senpai," Naoto says.

Yosuke flashes her a brief but grateful smile.

“...What if I told you both to leave?" Yu asks, staring at some garbage on the floor.

_We'd say hell no,_ Yosuke is about to retort, but Naoto speaks first.

“Then you would place us in a difficult predicament. I would want to respect your wishes, but my concern for your safety would be great indeed." She pauses, and then adds, “This is a matter of life and death."

She takes a breath. “I suppose I would need some assurance I could have faith you would not attempt suicide once we left."

“Just that?" asks Yu.

“I trust you to be honest with us, Senpai," Naoto says softly.

Yu stares at the newly-made futon on the floor and rubs the back of his neck self-consciously.

“You guys... really care too much about me,” he says, almost to himself.

“Bullshit,” says Yosuke. “And -- c'mon, what's your answer?"

All he wants to hear is a firm “no, I won’t hurt myself”. He desperately _needs_ to hear it.

“...I can make it through tonight by myself okay. Although, it’s not ‘tonight’ anymore, I guess,” says Yu with a humorless laugh. “But I just --”

He makes a dissatisfied noise and cuts himself off as if he said too much.

“You just what?” Yosuke asks. As if he’d let that go without comment.

“You can tell us anything,” Naoto reminds him.

“...I just don’t want to be alone,” Yu confesses.

“Then it’s settled,” Yosuke says easily, the harshness of his concern giving way to a soft, reassuring smile that can be heard in his voice. “We’re gonna stay. Right, Naoto?”

“Indeed,” says Naoto.

“How long?” Yu asks, taking small, uncertain steps towards the futon.

“As long as you want,” says Yosuke with a shrug. “It’s not like I had any plans today.”

“All of my prior commitments can be rescheduled,” Naoto says.

Yu sighs as he kneels down next to his newly-made futon.

“...Thank you. Both of you,” he says. “I don’t... know what I’d do if I didn’t... If...”

His voice grows shakier and shakier.

“Get some sleep,” Yosuke says. “You can thank us when you feel better. Okay?”

Yu nods jerkily and climbs into his futon.

“As for me, I’m gonna crash on this couch right here,” says Yosuke. It’s a small couch, so it won’t be terribly comfortable and he can’t stretch out; his only other option in this room is the bare floor, which is, honestly, kind of gross. Tiny couch it is. “Oh, wait, what’re you gonna do, Naoto? D’you want the couch?”

If she does, he’ll deal.

“No, that’s alright. If Yu-senpai doesn’t mind, I’d like to browse his reading materials,” says Naoto.

“Go ‘head,” Yu says, muffled by his covers.

If Yosuke tries, he can almost pretend the circumstances aren’t what they are and this is a fun sleepover they’re having.

Almost. He’s not that good at deluding himself. He sinks into the couch once again.

He doesn’t know a lot about self-harm and suicide, only that there’s no magic fix for it. All the support in the world isn’t going to cure Yu. Is Yu going to have to see a doctor and take pills? Do those pills actually work?

Back up a second, are his parents gonna be okay with letting him see a doctor? If they are, what are people going to think if word gets out that Yu’s seeing a shrink? What if -- what if he ends up in a hospital? What then?

Yosuke knows how people talk. There’s nothing people love more than nasty gossip. They’ll call him shit like “crazy”. They might think he’s dangerous. Nobody's going to accept him for who he is.

It makes Yosuke's blood boil. Yu, who's accepted all of them and all their ugly flaws, getting rejected by society... How the hell is that fair? And after all he’s been through?

“You appear agitated, Senpai,” Naoto says quietly so as not to disturb the already-asleep Yu. She’s browsing his collection of books.

“It’s nothing,” Yosuke says, realizing he's been restlessly tapping his foot against the floor. “I’m... ugh, I don’t know. Getting mad about stuff that hasn’t happened yet.”

“I see,” says Naoto. “I believe for now you should focus on the present, Senpai. We will cross future bridges when we come to them.”

“Yeah,” Yosuke says. “Yeah. No use finding more reasons to feel stressed out.”

“Precisely,” she says, and Yosuke notices she’s got a book in hand.

“ _Witch Detective_?” Yosuke asks. “What, that’s not an affront to your occupation or something?”

“I'm curious to see how magic is incorporated into the crime-solving process," Naoto says, a touch defensive.

Yosuke draws his knees up to his chest. Maybe this will be comfortable. Probably not. It's worth a try.

“Lemme know if it's any good," he says. “I can't remember the last time I read something that wasn't for class."

“Yes, Senpai doesn't seem like the most devoted reader," Naoto says.

“Hey, is that a jab at me?" Yosuke asks.

“Don't be ridiculous," Naoto says with a small smile. “In any case, I'll give you my thoughts when you awaken."

“You think you'll finish it that fast?"

“It's a light read. I'm certain."

“If you say so," says Yosuke. “I'm gonna try and catch some Zs."

“Rest well," Naoto says, cracking open the book from her spot on the floor.

Tired though he is, his anxiety and agitation have to wear off before Yosuke gets drowsy enough for sleep to catch up to him. When it does, he's thinking of Yu.

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter done! Let me know what you think.


End file.
